


a new era

by squidgee



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bees, Best Friends, Crying, Emotional Baggage, Family, Fighting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, L’Manburg, L’manberg, On the Run, Pogtopia, Potatoes, Prideful, Training, i am so exhausted its not even funny, manburg, minecraft au, multiple POVs, what a fancy man teehee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgee/pseuds/squidgee
Summary: If they were being honest with themselves, none of them had expected that things would end up going this sour. Being exiled from their nation, making a home out of a hillside, learning to live with a bloodthirsty anarchist who had a peculiar fascination for potatos.Unfortunately (or fortunately) for them, they were out of options.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 16
Kudos: 377





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! before you start reading, thank you again for checking out my fic. it really means a lot to me and i hope you can enjoy it as much as i did writing it! since this is my first fic, i apologize in advance if its messy or badly written ^-^

When he had first reached out to Wilbur and Tommy, it hadn't been his own decision. 

Techno could remember the day (rather, the evening) quite clearly. He and Phil had been sitting along the walls of the Antarctic Empire, both nudging the other with lighthearted jabs in an attempt to help ease their boredom. Aside from the occasional trade offer, things in the empire had become dreadfully boring to oversee. He missed that rush of adrenaline, the satisfaction he felt whenever he and his opponent clashed swords. Sparring had helped somewhat, but that didn't stop him from getting antsy.

His salvation came in the form of a letter from a meek-looking messenger, who, with him, carried the news of the other factions nearby. The newsletter wasn't much to look at, merely a few announcements of trade deals or peace treaties, only the norm. Though, it wasn't until the messenger had spoken that Techno felt intrigued. 

"Sir, forgive me if this is intrusive," Technoblade had never heard the messenger speak before. It was a scratchy sound, almost as if the messenger was holding back a cough. "Have you heard of the L'Manberg presidential election?"

Techno quirked an eyebrow, his braid flailing about in the harsh wind. How had he not? The war between the Dream SMP and L'Manberg had been common gossip in the Antarctic Empire while it went on, though it faded away, much like every other scuffle outside the city walls. However, the election, on the other hand, seemed to be all the rage these days. 

Many had mixed opinions on the election. Some believed that the current rulers should remain, with many being baffled as to why they would risk giving away their power to someone else. Meanwhile, others thought that the new ruler would give something fresh to the new nation. Technoblade was more aligned with the former. It may have been his personal bias (after all, Wilbur was his friend), but there was also the fact that the current rulers had only been there for a month or two; it's not like they would have to give up what they had fought for so early into their rule.

So, why had the messenger brought it up? Sword in hand, Techno noticed that he had been scratching the hilt absentmindedly, a nervous tic of his. Phil seemed to share the same sentiment, staring at the messenger in a mix of intrigue and concern. 

Taking Technoblade's lack of a response as a yes, the messenger continued. "Well, see, it seems as if a new leader has come into power. His name is... Schlatt, if I am not mistaken." The man nodded. "Yes, Schlatt. Perhaps this is an opportunity for you to provide trade to L'Manberg?" Techno tuned out everything after "opportunity."

Wilbur and Tommy lost. That was a surprise.

"...Huh." He muttered, seemingly not having much to say. It would be challenging to visualize L'Manberg without Wilbur and Tommy at the helm of it. Speaking of the two, he imagined that they must have not been taking the loss well. With Tommy being the competitive boy he was, and Wilbur being so fond of their country… It was a shame, really. 

"Well, at least they can still live there." The pink-haired man shrugged, trying his best to hide the surprise on his face. "Still, it's a shame. Hopefully, this 'Schlatt' guy will take care of it." 

"Ah, yes, about that…" The messenger seemed to be nervous about delivering the news. "Wilbur and Tommy's citizenship has been.. revoked, is the best way to put it. And with them both being in exile from the Dream SMP and their country, I assume they're in quite the predicament at the moment." 

Technoblade couldn't hide the shock on his face at the messenger's words, even if it was just his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. Phil seemed surprised. "Why would they have done that? Sure, this Schlatt guy's the president now, but... He can't do that, can he?" Phil turned to Techno, hoping the man would shake his head, but he only received a nod in response. 

"In that case, maybe you should go help them then."

"What?" Techno pursed his lips tightly, confused. "Whaddya mean 'help them,' Phil? L'Manbergs political happenings are none of my business."

"I mean that you could go fight with them, Techno." Phil nudged the braided man's side. "Y'know, a revolution? Anarchy? You like that stuff, don't you?"

"Like I said, it isn't my business." Techno shrugged. "And besides, I'm a frail, weak old man, Philza. I just can't fight as well as used to." He let out a dramatic sigh, tipping his head back.

"Well then, Mr. Elder," Phil huffed. "What about Tommy? He'll be devastated when he discovers that the great and powerful Technoblade refused to help him."

His mind went blank. What about Tommy? Sure, the two had had their fair share of mishaps (wars, even), but the boy still idolized Techno. He remembered seeing the joy on the boy's face when he and Phil had visited L'Manberg oh so long ago. At the time, Techno had called the boy's clinginess annoying, but in hindsight, without Tommy, things were duller than they had ever been. 

"...Why don't you go then, moral compass Phil?" 

"Cause." The blonde shrugged. "We both know I'm better at handling all the boring stuff here. And as much as you don't want to tell it to yourself, I know for a fact that you want to fight something." He gazed knowingly at Techno. "You've spent hours sparring with whoever you can find, primarily me, but wooden swords won't give you what you really want. You want blood, dude. Maybe even war."

"Whaddya mean 'war'? It's not as if they'll…" He trailed off, scratching his chin in silent thought. Judging by Tommy's… aggressive nature, and Wilbur's passion for L'Manberg, of course, they would do something stupid and fight against this Schlatt guy. Tommy probably named him and Wilbur "The Rebels" or something stupid like that. The braided man chuckled, his fondness for the boy showing itself clearly. 

"Well, then." Techno shrugged, an indifferent expression on his face. "I suppose I could go and help them…" Phil sat up, face morphing into a smile. "But I'm going to need something in return. Insurance, if you will."

"Oh, my…" Phil seemed seconds away from smacking Techno on the head, though he knew better than to fight with the man. "Fine! Fine. How much do you want?" His hand was already in his own pocket, searching for his wallet. After pulling out a few coins, he extended his hand to the braided man.

"I don't want money." Techno pushed Phil's hand away, clicking his tongue. "Instead, when I get back, you're going to teach me how to do tricks with that little… switchblade of yours." A light blush of embarrassment dusted his cheeks, his tough-guy persona slipping slightly. He hadn't expected that using Phil's knife would be so hard, but multiple accidents later, most of them on his hands, he had given up in fear of chopping off a finger. 

"Really?" Phil responded, holding back a bout of laughter. The great and powerful Technoblade, scared of pocket knives of all things. "Alright, fine. When you get back, I'll teach you how to do tricks."

Satisfied with the deal, Techno nodded towards his friend, a smile on his face. "Well then, I guess I'll just…"

Inside his pocket was a communicator, one that Phil had bought him a few years ago as a birthday/gag gift, knowing that Techno detested the things. It looked new, not counting the small scratches on its screen from living in his pocket for so long, but it did its job well. He seldom used it, instead resorting to another "authentic," as Techno called it, form of communication: letters. As much as he'd love to send the two exiled men a neatly written message, he had to reluctantly agree that it wasn't fit for the current situation.

It had a simple enough design; a screen, antennae, and a button to switch from private to public channels. The general channel conversation was almost nonexistent, only peppered by the occasional message from someone Techno didn't know. Tapping on to the private tab, he turned to Phil, puzzled. 

"What do I…?"

"Oh, right." Phil took the device from Techno's hands, catching the man's attention. "You just gotta press here-"A beep came from the device. "Then type either Tommy or Wilbur's user in here." Albeit slowly, Techno wrote "TommyInnit" into the box, turning to Phil again.

"Then I..?"

"Just press that little button in the corner, and you should be golden." Techno nodded quickly, heeding Phil's instructions. Tommy's user appeared underneath the typing box.

It took a bit of time, but Techno eventually typed the full message, grinning widely at his success. A few seconds later, Tommy replied with an enthusiastic (though Techno could only assume it through text) response, followed by the server IP. 

"Now, Techno," Phil placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "If you really don't wanna go, that's fine with me. Honestly. Like, I can go too if you'd like-"

"Don't beat yourself up about it. Besides, if I didn't want to, I'd have said something a while ago."

"Just... Stay safe, man." He whispered, his worry showing despite his clear efforts to mask it. "Send me a message whenever you get the chance."

"Oh, wow, now you worry about me." Techno snorted, before patting his hand on Phil's in hopes of giving him some sort of comfort. "I'll be fine, man. Don't sweat it, besides-"The communicator below him made a "ping" sound, signaling it was done loading.

“Technoblade never dies.” 

—

The gentle brushing of grass underfoot was all that Tommy could hear as he raced behind Wilbur, the two cloaked by the darkness of the twilight. Tubbo and the others had long since lost their trail (Tommy was sure of it, he had stopped hearing faint footsteps behind him a while ago), but that didn't mean that Wilbur had slowed down in the slightest. The man before him was different than the Wilbur that Tommy had known only a few hours ago. 

But he supposed that that's what happens when you become exiled from what you once called home. 

It had all happened so quickly, once Tommy thought about it. One moment, he was screaming victory, and the next, he was out in the wild, forced away from everything he had ever known. He was glad for the invisibility potion hiding him, for he couldn't bear to have Wilbur see the silent tears brimming in his eyes. It was terrifying. Sure, he had fought in a war, but he had sacrificed everything for L'Manberg. 

And now it was gone.

A still image of Tubbo staring at him in horror as Schlatt drove him out replayed in his mind. 

-

Heavy breaths left Wilbur's mouth as he hastened his pace across the flat ground, tail between his legs. Between the haze that was his consciousness, he could tell that he was exhausted. And judging by the slowing of footsteps behind him, Tommy was growing tired as well. 

Wilbur's legs all but buckled beneath him as he leaned against the nearest surface he could find, a small hill front shaded by a clump of trees. If someone had been following them, they hopefully would stay hidden for a bit longer before they got discovered. He hoped. 

Tommy was quiet as he sat by Wilbur, the potion's effects beginning to wear off. Now, Wilbur could make out the faint outline of a shaking boy, too stunned by the events of the past hour to even speak. 

After a few moments of squinting into the distance to make sure they were alone, Wilbur shifted his head slightly to look at Tommy, his brows furrowing. "You... You okay?"

"No, Wilbur, I'm not okay." Tommy snapped, arms crossed tightly against his chest. "We're exiled from our own country, Wilbur. Of course I'm not okay!" He spoke in a loud whisper, shaking his arms above his head, maybe in hopes of making a point. "And this is all because you decided to hold that stupid election, you little-" 

"My fault? My fault?" Wilbur retorted, ignoring the guilt blooming in his chest. "You're the one that got Schlatt back into the server! If you hadn't begged Dream to whitelist him, we'd both still be in-" 

Tommy covered his face with his hands, seemingly too tired to argue any longer. "Okay, listen, listen, let's not..." He huffed. "It's Quackity, Wilbur. He's the one at fault here. We don't- We can't turn on each other, Wil." Tommy grabbed the taller man by the shoulders, lightly shaking him. "Now that we've lost L'Manberg, we're all we have left." The boy laughed in hopes of lightening the already somber mood, though it sounded more like a nervous chuckle. 

"You..." Wilbur frowned, turning away from Tommy and staring at the ground as if it was the greatest thing in the world. From the looks of it, he seemed to have had a bit of difficulty fully processing the loss of his nation. It's all part of the package, Wilbur told himself, just as he nodded at Tommy. 

"You're right, Tomster." Wilbur ruffled the boy's hair, resulting in a quick 'hey!' from the blonde. "I guess we'll just.." He frowned, turning to the hillside behind him. "I guess we'll just have to stay here." The President and Vice President of L'Manberg, living in a hillside of all things. 

It was a bit demeaning, but it would have to do.

After a few minutes of deliberation between the two outlaws, they decided that while Tommy would carve out space in the hillside, Will would get wood to furnish the inside (and maybe find some food while he was at it). The process was already slow, to begin with, considering the fact that most of the animals had done away with any visible food on the hilled land, and the two of them already exhausted from running for almost half an hour, Wilbur was sure that he would collapse onto the ground at any given moment. 

Crickets filled the silence as Wilbur weaved between the tree-filled grove, the quiet only momentarily interrupted by the occasional crunch or crack of something beneath him. The world around him had blurred some time ago, perhaps by pure exhaustion, or maybe something else. He was still figuring out that part. 

He occasionally darted his attention towards the ground, eyes combing through the thick brush under him in search of finding something edible (other than rabbits, of course). He'd never had a fancy towards the little things, and he was sure/hoped that Tommy didn't either. 

...On second thought, maybe it wasn't a good idea to risk being picky with his food. Wilbur had grown far too pampered, soft, even, by life in L'Manberg. Sure, he had the war, but that had been quick. And Tommy had... Right. Tommy had saved them. In the history books that would document what L'Manberg became, Tommy would be written as the hero. The savior. The one who sacrificed his most sacred discs purely for the short-lived freedom of a country that was doomed to fail. And Wilbur... Wilbur was just there, watching, afraid. 

That would explain that was why it was so easy for Schlatt to win against him. Well, in a technical sense, Quackity. That entire scheme of theirs was so strange, yet it didn't break any rules. It was an ingenious loophole.

Wilbur pushed his hands further in his pockets. 

How come he hadn't thought of that before? He was supposed to be smart, witty, cunning. He was supposed to be two steps ahead of the opponent at every chance he got. Of course, his "intuition" hadn't stopped Eret from betraying them in the war, nor did it save their land from being blown up before their very eyes. In reality, Wilbur wasn't anything special. Just a man who had been in the right place at the right time. 

There was the opportunity for revolt, and he had simply taken it. 

It hurt, phrasing things like that. But being honest with himself in a time like this was Wil's best option. He hadn't been a good leader. If he had been, then why did Niki or Tubbo avert their gazes from them guiltily when they were exiled? Why had his own son, bound by all but blood, stare at his as if he was filth? As if he had never really cared for him at all. And what about Tommy? The boy must've been disgusted at being forced to be stuck with someone as useless as him. 

Lost in his own thoughts, Wilbur hadn't noticed the skeleton pulling back its bow, its arrow pointed right at him.

-

Tommy was pretty sure that Wilbur wasn't supposed to be out for so long. 

Alright, he might not have an actual clock on him, and yeah, he couldn't really discern the time without one, but judging by how it was starting to get colder by the passing second, this was far from usual. Tommy shut his eyes tightly, leaning further against the walls of his and Wilbur's little cave. Sure, it wasn't the most extravagant of places, and it might've smelled just a tiny bit like someone poured an ashtray into it, but it wasn't his fault! If that stupid creeper hadn't stepped so close to the powerful TommyInnit, he wouldn't have tracked gunpowder into the cave. 

...Right, what was he doing again? 

Oh yeah, Wilbur was missing! That wasn't good.

Albeit reluctantly, Tommy rose from his seat atop a scuffed crafting table, his body already leaning towards the almost empty chest of their valuables. Due to the events of the past several hours, they didn't exactly have much, only some armor and a few spare blocks, but the shield and sword, in particular, caught his eye. 

His worry began to rise ever so slightly. 

Hesitantly, he equipped the shield and squeezed the hilt of the sword, trying to grow used to the way it weighed down on his hand. It was Wilbur's sword, meaning it was the tiniest bit too big for him, but the other man barely used it, so why did it matter? In the gentle glow of the torch behind him, the sword seemed to almost glimmer, and Tommy could have nearly (almost) mistaken the weapon as a piece of jewelry if he hadn't remembered the deadly purpose it had served. 

"Coool." He whispered, a grin crossing his features. Looking at a sword never got old, even if he had already done it more than a hundred times before.

It was philosophical, somehow. If Wilbur was here, he'd probably make some witty remark about it.

Speaking of Wilbur, Tommy seemed to finally remember what he was supposed to be doing, head peeking out of the cave to make sure that the coast of the clear. He might have been well equipped to fight, but Tommy couldn't risk losing energy over something stupid like a scuffle with a zombie if Wilbur needed help.

The air was chilly, though it did little to defy the blonde as he trekked through the forest, humming a tune to himself to put his mind at ease. It had rained the day before, making it easier for Tommy to spot faint footprints in the ground, further accentuated by the footprint's unique symbol. Those were Wilbur's boots, alright. He had Tubbo to thank for that. The boy had convinced Wilbur to let the boy put small "emblems" onto each of their boots, as Tubbo called them, though they really were just raised bits of wood glued to the shoes. He had given them all unique ones correlating to their names, but Tubbo had messily scrawled a buff version of Tommy onto his boots, as per the blonde's request. It was a fond memory of his. 

He forced it out of his mind soon after.

Tommy missed Tubbo. A lot, when he thought about it. Being this far away from his friend was something very new to him. As far as he could remember, he and Toby had been best friends, inseparable, even. If one of them was doing something, the other was sure to follow. Tubbo gravitated more to building and redstone contraptions (which Tommy could never get the hang of), while Tommy enjoyed adventuring and fighting (Tubbo picked up archery for that reason), making it hard to find activities that they mutually enjoyed.

He laughed, a weak, pained sound filling the air. It occurred to him that if he hadn't been cast out with Wilbur, he would have seriously considered begging for forgiveness from Schlatt. What a fool he was, all to be safe again. It was pathetic. He was pathetic for being willing to give up so easily.

A pained yelp filled the air, clearing his foggy mind. 

At that moment, Tommy had never felt more alone. 

"H-Hello?" His efforts to make his tone commanding all went to waste as he involuntarily stuttered. "Are you... Who's there?" 

A clatter of bones from afar.

A bowstring pulled taut. 

And behind the trees, undead eyes staring at him, was a skeleton.

Tommy gasped sharply, raising his shield just in time for an arrow to hit it with a satisfying thunk. He could feel his hands shake, a deer in headlights as the skeleton shot again, this time barely grazing his ear. In that moment, rather than the skeleton pulling back its bow, it was Dream, a grin crossing his pale features as he aimed squarely at his head. It had been months since his duel with that green bastard, and he still had never gotten over the feeling of an arrow impaling his arm, rendering it useless for almost a month. 

He was terrified.

Despite its lack of any sort of muscle, Tommy could have sworn he saw the skeleton look discontent, dissatisfied, even, as it loaded its second arrow. 

"Tommy?" The familiar voice snapped him out of his daze, pupils dilating again in the darkness as he turned to look at the source of the noise. And there he was, Wilbur, hand pressed tightly against some sort of wound in his arm. Judging by the bloodied arrow at his side, he assumed the skeleton had done it. 

"Throw me... the sword." Despite looking as if he was in some of the worst pain he'd ever experienced in his life, Wilbur smiled weakly. "That bony bastard didn't get my good arm." 

"You can't throw for shit, Wilbur." Tommy tried laughing, though it sounded more like a distressed cough.

"You're not doing an excellent job of encouraging me, Tommy." 

It wasn't long before Tommy had successfully skidded a sword in Wilbur's general direction, followed by the man pulling his hand away from what looked like a ketchup stain. The skeleton had little to no time to react, undead eyes widening ever so slightly as Wilbur hurled the iron sword at the mob with all of his force, knocking its bow out of reach. Tommy could clearly see the badly masked pain in Wilbur's eyes, while the man covered his arm again.

Without its bow, and with most of its health chipped away, the skeleton made a feeble attempt at hobbling away, only to be slammed atop the head by Tommy. 

Tommy beat the life out of the thing to make a long story short, only stopping when the bones scattered around the forest floor stopped moving. 

That previous rush of adrenaline was gone, only replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and the increasingly familiar sense of exhaustion in his chest. When had fighting a skeleton ever been this hard? The little fuckers usually died pretty quickly, though he supposed that he couldn't really remember the last time he had fought a skeleton alone. 

Right, Wilbur was here. And he was bleeding. Fuck.

"Soo, Wilbur!" Tommy kneeled to the man's side, wincing dramatically at the sight of his friend's arm. "That doesn't... look very good."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Hey, no need to be rude!" Tommy huffed. "I saved you! I was expecting some sort of thank you, Wilbur." 

"...Thank you, Tommy."

"Alright! You are very welcome." As he spoke, Tommy stood up, helping Wilbur do the same as the taller man leaned his weight onto Tommy's side. "But seriously, that looks like it hurts, man. Can you still like, move it and shit?" This was standard procedure for an arrow wound, right?

"Yes, Tommy, I can." Wilbur shifted the arm from side to side to prove his point. "It just stings. A lot."

"Can you still wa-"

"My arm was shot, Tommy, not my legs. I'll be fine."

"Only if you're sure!"

Feeling as if the conversation had come to an end, Tommy began to walk at a slow pace. He took a mental note to keep an eye on Wilbur, noticing the way he seemed to trip over his feet every once in a while. Despite the lack of any speaking between the two, there wasn't an awkward silence. With both of them being too tired to talk for any longer than 10 seconds, they both came onto a mutual (silent) agreement that there wasn't really anything to say. Wilbur got shot. Tommy saved him (a bit anticlimactically, in his own opinion), and that was that.

\--

Once they had gotten back to the cave, Tommy watched Wilbur's expression closely, trying to see if he was satisfied with it. Unfortunately for him, he could only see a total indifference to the whole cave. Right, Wilbur was tired. Maybe he'd have a better reaction in the morning. 

Speaking of the morning, Tommy was reasonably sure that letting a wound stew for an entire night in the open air wouldn't be the most beneficial for Wilbur's health. The two of them weren't exactly skilled in first aid by any means, but he knew enough that he was supposed to clean it, then put some sort of bandage on it. 

A quick glance around the cave confirmed his suspicions: they didn't have any bandages. 

"...Wilbur, you didn't happen to bring some cobwebs, did you?" Wilbur's expression told him all he needed to know: confusion. Guess they were out of luck then. 

"Well, shit."

"Shit indeed."

Wilbur was leaning on the bright orange bed they had made a few minutes ago, wincing every time his hand would brush over his arm. It didn't look infected from where Tommy was standing, but he didn't really want to get any closer to check. 

"Well, at least it'll give you a wicked cool scar." Tommy grinned. 

Wilbur was quiet, but Tommy could spot the silent grin on his face. 

"I hope so." 

\-- 

An hour or so had passed since the two had arrived at the cave, with Wilbur already fast asleep in one of the beds. Tommy had decided to keep watch for the night, both because Wilbur was too tired to keep his eyes open for more than a minute and because Tommy needed some time outside.

Both he and Wilbur had patched his arm up somewhat, though it took a bit of scrounging through a nearby cave to find enough cobwebs to wrap his arm fully. Using the water bucket in Tommy's inventory, the wound had been cleaned somewhat, though Tommy would make sure to actually clean it properly by tomorrow. As for the present, Wilbur could sleep in relative peace. And that was all that mattered to Tommy.

Tommy jumped as he felt buzzing from his pocket. His communicator.

He felt shame rise in him as he scrambled to open the stupid thing, hoping to see a message from Tubbo, only for him to be greeted with a message from someone else.

Technoblade, of all people. 

Tommy swiveled around, looking at Wilbur silently as the man slept. He wouldn't like it when he woke up, but Tommy was doing what was best for their little revolution. And if Technoblade wanted to help, by god was he going to accept it. And besides, Wilbur looked so relaxed, sleeping. And who was Tommy to interrupt him?

<TommyInnit> Thank you, Techno

<TommyInnit> Wilbur said yes

It felt strange to lie to Wilbur. He didn't know if he wanted to do it ever again. 

_ <Technoblade> pog _

_ <Technoblade> server ip? _

Tommy typed quickly, ignoring the subtle doubt in his mind. In his own haste to invite Techno, he had conveniently forgotten the fact that the joining message would be public for everyone to see. Even if most of the L'Manbergians were asleep at the time, at least one of them would be awake in time to alert Schlatt of Techno's presence. 

_ <TommyInnit> As soon as you join, i'll send you my coords _

He was surprised by how quickly Techno responded. 

_ <Technoblade> got it _

Typing the server IP into the small chatbox, he could feel himself hesitate for just a moment before he pressed the "Send" button. 

He saw a ping on the public channel.

_ Technoblade joined the game. _


	2. white lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BACK!! VERY SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY
> 
> also, please keep in mind that this is not a shipping fic!! it is completely platonic, and most of the ccs in this fic have stated they're uncomfy with shipping. with that in mind, read on baby!
> 
> ty to my beta readers for helping me with this stuff as well!!

"Do you always wear that suit, Schlatt?" 

The man in question turned to look at Fundy, confusion lacing his glance. That was a weird question, but it would be rude not to respond. Schlatt only grinned, chest shaking with a chuckle. 

"Yeah, Fundy, this is the only suit I own." The horned man grinned, proud of his sarcastic comment. Fundy didn't seem to share the same sentiment. "In all honesty, I guess I just… haven't had the chance to use anything else." Schlatt rolled his shoulders. "I don't really sleep a lot, so I don't wear much else than this damn suit."

"You're an insomniac?"

"Nah, I just drink way too much coffee." Fundy only snorted in response. "It's an old habit of mine. A bit hard to shake off, y' know?"

"I get 'ya." The awkward tension between the two was suffocating. From the looks of it, the fox hadn't really warmed up to him yet. Fundy's ears twitched slightly, catching Schlatt's attention. 

"So… How does the whole fox thing work?" Fundy looked taken aback. "I mean, are you like a carnivore or somethin'? You eat birds?" 

"Says the guy with horns." Schlatt waited for a few more moments, hoping to hear a response, only to hear silence. 

"Touché, touché." Schlatt scratched the stubble on his chin, silent in thought. 

"... It's just a visual thing," Fundy whispered, the fur on his cheeks the only thing hiding the blush dusting his face. "Like, I don't really eat birds or anything like that."

"So, you're just a furry?" 

"No! It's not-"Fundy jumped. "Why do you guys always say that!"

"You just explained to me that you're a furry, fox boy."

"Look, I do have cool fox things!" Fundy snapped. "Like- I'm sly! Like, uh, a fox. And I've got sensitive ears too."

"You can hear stuff well? That's pretty cool."

"No, it's more like they're just really sensitive." The fox gestured towards his ears as an example. "I can't bend them back too far or pull 'em; otherwise, it feels like they're getting ripped off. Makes it really hard to wear hats."

"That explains why you've only got one hat." 

"At least I have a hat." Fundy chimed in. "Unlike you, with your… stupid horns and all that."

In hindsight, Schlatt wouldn't have found the whole ordeal nearly as hilarious as he did, but Fundy's weak efforts at a retort spurred him into a full fit of laughter.

"W-Why are you finding this funny! That wasn't supposed to be funny!" Schlatt only laughed harder in response. "Your self-esteem is supposed to be in sham-" 

Fundy's outburst was interrupted by a buzz from both his and Schlatt's communicators, though it did little to stop the horned man's laughter at Fundy's desperate attempts to clear his name. The fox fumbled with the communicator, struggling to turn it on, only for him to go silent.

"Schlatt, check your communicator."

"Is this some sort of-" A wheeze. "A way to make me stop laughing at you?"

"No, Schlatt, turn on your communicator right now."

The urgency in the fox's voice was enough to spur him to action.

His eyes widened as he read the light yellow message glowing in the dimness of the shade.

"Fuck."

—

Despite being as clueless as he was, Tommy knew full well that running into an empty clearing with no cover while you're deemed to be on the run was a terrible idea. 

It didn't help that literally everything in this damn forest was out to get him; from the twigs and leaves (he could've sworn he saw one dive under his feet to make the loudest crunch he'd ever heard a twig make) to the roots that poked out unnaturally in the ground. With how little time he had left to get Techno, and the entire severity of the situation, he would've hoped that the forest would have a bit of sympathy for him. Alas, that wasn't the case. 

In short, he was fucked.

He really wished he had told Wilbur about this.

There was no way he could travel on foot across the clearing. Otherwise, he'd be caught by someone like Ponk or Eret and promptly killed by Schlatt. Even if he did fight back, the night before revealed that the two were fully decked out in enchanted netherite armor, not to mention the two's superior skill in fighting as well. Even if Tommy was good at fighting, he was only armed with a scuffed set of iron armor and an iron sword that was quickly losing durability. If he still had a horse, maybe it'd be easier to get around, but he didn't have one, and he didn't know where he'd get on-

Fundy. Fundy had a horse.

If Tommy could remember correctly, it was a spindly thing, a skeleton horse of all things. Fundy claimed he had gotten it to intimidate people, though with how badly it succeeded at that, that couldn't be the real reason. Either way, though, he seldom saw Fundy ever use the thing, leaving it tied up to a fence for most of its days. Seeing as it was undead, it probably didn't mind much, but that didn't mean that Tommy liked it. It was a neat looking horse, and it should be treated like one. 

Considering their circumstances as runaways, Tommy had every reason to steal Fundy's horse. More accessible transportation, Wilbur's satisfaction, the actual horse... It was a win-win situation. Fundy would be rid of the horse, and Tommy would have it. It was perfect, flawless in every way. 

"That's a good plan, me." Tommy couldn't hide the grin in his voice and the pride in his chest, even if he was only speaking to himself. 

Now, the real challenge was acting on it. 

It wouldn't be too hard to get the actual horse. He'd never seen Fundy take the saddle off of it, and even if the fox actually noticed, Tommy would be long gone. The only way the plan wouldn't work was if Fundy had another horse that he could chase after Tommy with, but that would be taken care of when the time came. 

His communicator buzzed in his pocket. Tommy did little to hide his excitement as he reached for it, hands fumbling as he attempted to press the private chat. 

where are you lol

Having some issues with getting over there  
Be patient 

After a few seconds of waiting, a response didn't come. 

Well, that settled it. Tommy was going to get that stupid horse, whether Fundy liked it or not. For L'Manberg. For their cave. For the validation of Wilbur!

And most importantly, for Technoblade.

* * *

This wasn't going very well.

The plan had gone absolutely brilliantly at first. Once Tommy arrived at Fundy's home, the fox was nowhere to be seen, probably in L'Manberg doing something with Schlatt. The horse went with him with little to no struggle, the only one being 

There was just one problem. Quackity had seen him. 

He'd just been leaving to head to spawn when he saw Quackity just standing there, a bushel of potatoes in his arms. More than anything else, he looked confused, as if he didn't quite know what to do next. Tommy seemed to have the same reaction, sweat beading on his forehead as the two stared at each other in what looked to be a staring contest of who would run away first. The competition was, unfortunately, short-lived. 

Quackity lost. 

The quick flash behind Quackity's sunglasses almost gave Tommy the impression that the man was amused if that was even possible. Maybe he took enjoyment out of being a cheater. Then again, he had been the one to suggest the whole "pooling votes" thing to the current president, even though he panicked when the same man had run for office. Quackity was a strange, strange man. He did a much better job of masking his need for power than Schlatt, who wore it like a badge of pride. 

By the time his internal monologue had ended, Quackity was long gone, the only reminder of him being a lone potato on the ground. 

Ignoring his urge to run after him, Tommy took a deep breath and swiveled both him and the horse around. The air around him was just as cold as it was the evening before, wisps of wind crawling across his skin and biting at his fingers. His horse, oblivious to the weather, clopped forward aimlessly as the boy above him tugged on the reins. 

"Shit. Shit, shit." There wasn't much else to say, considering the circumstances. For now, all he could do was move the horse forward, the horses' gallop being the only thing to steady his heartbeat.

* * *

Techno was a patient man. At least, he'd like to think he was one.

He didn't mind waiting for an entire field of potatoes to grow, for months at a time (even if he did complain about it to Phil every other night). Nor did he mind waiting for Phil outside the castle for another expedition since his friend only left when he was sure everything was accounted for (even if he would mumble to himself about why Phil was taking so long). And he certainly didn't mind as he spawned into the strangest enclosure he'd ever seen, one that looked to be hastily made (one could only assume, from the walls made of varied blocks). It looked to be entirely out of the ordinary, if he was perfectly honest. Then again, he'd only been to a handful of servers, so he couldn't really confirm if something like this was commonplace. And all the while, he didn't mind one bit.

...In retrospect, maybe he did mind a little. Though he didn't exactly want to make the wrong impression on his first day on a new server. 

But anyway, back on the topic of patience. He had to admit that he was a bit disappointed to not see Tommy standing outside of the walls by the time he'd spawned in, but he had to cut the guy some slack. After all, he and Wilbur were on the run. It was only natural that it'd take him a bit more time than expected to come and pick Techno up. Unfortunately for him, his affirmations did little to help with his annoyance. Neither did the empty space where his sword should have been, or the incessant buzzing in his other pocket, probably from his stupid communicator. 

He'd decided that he hated this server already. 

If there was one thing he did like about the place, though, he'd have to say the sky. Being a man who seldom had the time (or will) to really appreciate nature, he was surprised to discover that the sky wasn't always a shade of light or dark blue. In fact, during a sunrise much like this one, it could be pink, dappled with blues and oranges with faint clouds stretched across the horizon. 

The voice of a familiar boy interrupted his silence. 

"Techno?"

The braided man whipped his head around to squint at Tommy, somewhat surprised at the boy's impressive height. He'd visited L'Manburg, what, 2 months ago? And now Tommy was almost as tall as him. Not quite, but close. 

"You're tall now." He grinned lightly.

"I've always been tall." Tommy huffed, tugging at the tall horse behind him to bring it closer to Techno. "But nows not the time to discuss my height, big man. We've got to get goi-"

"Where's Wilbur?" Techno leaned to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man hiding in the trees, or perhaps behind Tommy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"I'd much appreciate it if you could let me finish speaking, Techno." The boy snapped. "As for Wilbur, he's... He's at home base, probably sleeping, actually. See, he's not exactly fond of any Americans at the moment, seeing as they betrayed him." 

"I'm assuming this information means I shouldn't speak to him?"

"Yes! Don't speak to him. In fact, don't even go inside our cave." 

"See, I thought that since Wilbur had invited me to stay here, he'd let me actually sleep inside for the night."

"Ah-" Tommy laughed too loudly, squeezing the leather reins in his hand tightly. "Well, y' know him Techno, always the indecisive one! That's Wilbur. Yup." 

"I've known him longer than you have, Tommy."

"Oh, what's that? We've got to get going!" Techno did little to hide the frown on his face as Tommy turned away from him, busying himself with the horse's reins. "Well? What're you waiting for? We don't got all day, Techno."

Seeing that the short-lived conversation was over, Techno averted his gaze to the skeleton horse before him. He could've sworn that Tommy never owned a skeleton horse, nor did Wilbur. Then again, it'd been two months since he'd last visited L'Manburg. Maybe that was why the boy seemed so hasty to finish talking with him. 

Hooking his foot into the stirrup, Techno hoisted himself on top of the horse with a muffled grunt, watching as Tommy did the same, albeit with a bit more struggling. 

"Tommy, you know how to ride a horse?" The man was a bit surprised to see Tommy at the horse's helm rather than letting Techno control it. "Who taught you?"

"Nobody did. I learned by myself."

"...Is that why it took so long for you to get here? Cause you don't know how to ride a horse?"

"Shut up, Techno." The boy hissed, his ears quickly growing red. "I can ride a horse just fine, and you don't have to stick your nose into everyth-"

"Then why haven't we started moving yet?" The braided man beamed to Tommy, patting him on the back. "Just admit it, Tommy, you don't know what you're doing, right?"

"I-" 

"Think about what you're going to say, Tommy." 

The air was still as Tommy slowly turned to look at Techno, silent anger clearly visible on his face. And just like that, the boy threw the reins down and hopped off of the animal, spouting out a flurry of curses while Techno only shuffled forward to hold the reins properly. 

"Oh, wow, look at me, I'm Technoblade! I'm so cool, and I know how to ride a horse!" Techno did little to hide his thinly veiled amusement, a toothy grin already spreading across his face. "Oh yeah, laugh it off, Mr. Chuckles. It's not as if we're on the run from anyone, no siree! We have all the time in the world for stupid small ta- AHH!" 

As soon as Tommy had spoken, he was silent, practically radiating shame as he shuffled forward. With Techno pressing his legs to the animal's side, the horse began to move forward, galloping at an impressive speed for something undead. That shut Tommy up quickly. Interestingly enough, the boy was clutching the back of Techno's braid for dear life, gasping sharply whenever the two would go over a hill, or the horse would jump in the air. 

"Are you trying to kill me, Techno?" The boy yelped again as the horse swerved to the side, the two already far away from spawn. 

"That's the plan."

"You don't- You don't even know where you're going!" That wasn't exactly true. He was following the sun, even if it was pointing him to nowhere. The horse didn't seem to mind very much. 

"They don't call me a human GPS for nothing, kid."

"What's the point of being a 'human GPS' if you don't even know where you're going?!" Techno could feel the boy's weight shift behind him as if he was peering over Techno's shoulder. "You're not even going the right way, stupid. You're supposed to be-" The tightness in his braid from Tommy grabbing it grew tighter still (if that was even possible) as Techno slowed the horse down, unhooking his feet from the stirrups and hopping off. Tommy remained on the horse, holding his own communicator in his hands. 

"Techno, how fast can you make that horse go?"

* * *

Wilbur was currently, at exactly 9:04 in the morning, worried out of his mind. 

Alright, that was a bit of an understatement. It was more of an "oh god, oh fuck, where did Tommy go." 

Before he had come to the realization that Tommy had, quite literally, burst into thin air, his morning had been enjoyable. Or at least as enjoyable as an exiled president morning could be. The arrow wound on his arm did little to dampen his spirits while he rummaged for food in one of the many chests Tommy had set up the night before. "It's for extra storage," he had said, though by how little possessions they had, Wilbur figured that the chests would most likely remain empty for most of their time in the cave. 

His assumption was correct. As for any food left, the only thing that didn't look as if it had been through war was two loaves of bread. One for Wilbur, and one for Tommy. He'd much preferred to have something other than plain bread, but there weren't enough options to be picky with.

Besides, it was a prime time for him to go foraging for food with the sun already in the sky. He could go to his house (he could faintly remember hiding a pumpkin pie in one of the barrels), but he'd have to ask Tommy about that.

And that's when, as he went outside to give the boy his breakfast, Wilbur was met with the sight of... well, nothing. 

Tommy was gone. 

At first, his mind had raced to conclude that Tommy was kidnapped by one of Schlatt's cabinet members. It wouldn't be challenging to take away an exhausted boy, no matter how skilled he may have been. Of course, then he'd remembered that this was Tommy that he was talking about. If he had gotten kidnapped, then surely he would've made some sort of sound, one loud enough that Wilbur would've woken up. And to sow Wilbur's doubts even further, there wasn't any sign of a struggle. No blood, no torn-up grass or dirt. 

So, the only option would have to be that Tommy went away willingly. 

He didn't exactly blame the boy for leaving such a useless man like him. Though he would like to believe that Tommy cared about him. After all, he'd saved him yesterday, hadn't he? Surely if he hated Wilbur, he wouldn't have done that.

But the promise of safety, not having to hide in a cave, being with your best friend again... It was an offer that Wilbur was sure Tommy couldn't resist.

And now, here he was, frantically searching for any way to prove that Tommy hadn't left him, that he was just hiding somewhere, or that he had gone against his will. He wouldn't be cruel enough to leave Wilbur alone, would he?

Amid his searching, he heard it. It was almost silent, but if he stood still and held his breath for just a bit longer, he could hear it. 

A horse's hooves, the sound as faint as a wasp crawling across a windowpane. 

His head whipped to look at the sound, dropping the dirt still in his hands. It was Tommy, he was sure of it, on what looked like a skeleton horse. But as the dust cleared, Wilbur's eyes widened. 

"Techno..." He didn't dare move. What was Tommy doing, sitting behind that man on a horse?

And why did he look so terrified?

Wilbur stood still, now acutely aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing any armor or that he didn't have a sword (curse the stupid L'Manberg rules). Though it wouldn't have mattered in the end. Techno would have killed him even with a wooden sword. He wouldn't even get the chance to save Tommy from what looked to be a kidnapping attempt.

But he would certainly try.

The horse's clopping slowed to a stop as the braided man hopped off the animal, his head turned away from Wilbur. And just as his attention was on something else, Wilbur's arms wrapped around Tommy's waist and pulled him to the ground, seizing the sword in his hands. The yelp from Tommy's mouth was what spurred Techno to attention, his head whipping back to Wilbur at a speed the man didn't even know was possible, before his shoulders untensed. 

"Wilbur, It's nice to see you ag-"

"Stay away!" Techno winced at the scream, eyes flashing with what Wilbur thought was confusion before they returned to their usual blank slate. "S-Schlatt sent you, didn't he? To kill me?" Wilbur pointed the weapon at Techno, hoping that he wouldn't approach. 

Tommy, now obviously embarrassed from needing to be protected, tried to shake Wilbur's shoulder. "Wilbur, that's not what hap-"

"I'm not going to let you k-kill me, or Tommy!" He pointed the sword at Techno, hand clenching tighter around its hilt, every second that the warrior was silent, another second of being alive. "You'll have to fight me, you pink basta-"

Wilbur interrupted himself with a sharp gasp as Techno's hand tightened around his wrist, taking advantage of Wilbur's poor stance. The wounded man could only fall back in surprise, watching as his only weapon fell to the ground. 

His attempt at retrieving it was foiled by Techno kicking it back, still nonchalant as ever. 

"I was kinda hoping that you would remember me teaching you how to do a defensive stance, Wilbur." The man tsk' ed, shaking his head. "It's a two-handed sword, and it's probably too heavy for you to fight with if your other hand is busy with Tommy over there." Wilbur paled as Techno picked up the sword, flipping it over in his hands. 

"I'm not here to hurt you, man." The iron sword was promptly tucked into a sheath on his waist before he outstretched a hand to Wilbur. "I'm here to help."

"I didn't ask for any help, Te-"

"Woah there, hey!" Tommy's voice was loud, a blatant attempt at trying to redirect attention. "Haha, Techno, I thought we agreed that you wouldn't talk to Wilbur once he got back!" Tommy spread a broad grin on his face, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Right? Riiight?"

"He's the one who tried to point a sword at me!" Techno still sounded confused, though not as confused as Wilbur was. "And you... wait." His head turned to look at Wilbur. 

"Wil, did you know about this?"

Sparing a glance at Tommy, who was already frantically trying to push away Techno, Wilbur put two and two together.

"No, I didn't. In fact, I'm quite certain this little gremlin tricked us."

"Whaat? No!" Tommy laughed too loudly again. "No, no, you've got it all wrong! I was just..." He paused. "Alright, I think we started off on the wrong foot. Let's restart." 

"Wilbur! Will. Big man. Big W. Little W. Mr. President. Um..." Tommy clapped his hands together. "I think we can all agree that I and your combined skillset isn't very... impressive, especially considering our circumstances as exilees. Evacuees? Ah, to hell with it." 

"So, I'm an opportunist. You know that. And an opportunity of victory-" He gestured to Techno. "Arose to me. So, I, of course, being the opportunist I am, took the opportunity. And now, here we are." 

"...See, Tommy, that doesn't really explain anything."

"I'm getting there." The boy cleared his throat. "To rephrase... I may have asked Techno to come to stay with us and train us-" 

"That wasn't part of the contract."

"Shut up, Techno." Tommy hissed, before laughing nervously. "For as long as we need before we can take back L'Manburg! Y'know?" 

"...Tommy." 

"Yes, Wil?"

"Are you telling me that you, as my Vice President, possibly the person I trust the most in this world, went behind my back and invited a man who we have not spoken to in months to stay with us, without even taking into account the number of times he's fought against us? Against you?"

"Techno is a changed man! He reached out first-"

"That's awfully suspicious-"

"Because he wanted to help us, Wilbur!" Tommy looked to be near exasperation. "I don't get why you're so against him! Yeah, we last spoke a few months ago. Big whoop! You're just jealous that I got him here instead of you!" 

"I'm angrier at the fact that you lied to me and went behind my back and made me worried out of my mind! I thought you could be dead, Tommy!" He specifically left out the part about Tommy leaving him. "You could've told me at least! It would've spared me a whole lot of panicking!"

Wilbur could've sworn he saw something akin to regret flash in Tommy's eyes, but it was gone just as soon as it came. 

"I'm doing what's good for our country! For our L'Manberg!" Tommy pointed to the cave behind them. "We may be living in a cave, and we might not live in our walls anymore, but it's our L'Manberg all the same! We fought a war for it, Wilbur! I gave my discs, and I'm not going to let a coward like you put it all to waste!"

Just as soon as the words had passed his lips, Tommy stopped, his hands clenched firmly at his sides. The two, president and vice, waited to see who would strike back first.

"So..." Techno's nervous laughter broke the silence. "Should I... Like, do anything? Maybe plant some potatoes?"

"No, you're-"

"Yeah, Techno. Go plant some potatoes." Tommy pat Techno on the shoulder, though the gesture obviously did little to calm the man's nerves. "In fact, plant as many potatoes as you want."

"I'm still your leader, Tommy. You still need to listen to me."

"No, Wilbur." The boy's gaze was firmly on Wilbur, his arms stiffly pressed against him.

"You're not a president anymore." 

As Tommy walked by Wilbur, he could feel a sharp jab to his side, followed by the gentle sound of leaves crunching growing further and further away.

"...That was stressful." 

Running his hands through his hair, Wilbur sighed. "Why are you still here, Techno?" 

"I mean, you haven't sent me away yet." The man shrugged. "Besides, as much as you might be angry with him, Tommy made some pretty good points if I'm inclined to say so."

"That's probably because they were complimenting you."

"Maybe." Techno chuckled. "But my ego's already big enough. And, Wilbur, I'm going to be honest with you here-" The braided man turned to look at Wilbur, his face blank.

"You're really bad at PVP."

Wilbur only let out a dry laugh in response. "I know. Your point is?"

"I can help you, Wilbur. Like Tommy said, I can train you. Make you better at this stuff."

"And what if someone finds us here and we're not ready to fight yet?"

"Well, that's what you have me for." 

The man made some good points, that was for sure. And in his current derelict state, Wilbur didn't exactly want to turn Techno away. Sure, it may have meant that Tommy was right in the end. 

But he missed his friend. And he missed the feeling of being safe.

"...Why is it so hard, Techno?" Wilbur tipped his head back, looking at the stars. "Why won't Tommy get it?"

"Wilbur, I'm not a therapist or anything." This earned him a sharp glare from Wilbur, though he quickly responded. "Though, if I had to give you some advice, you gotta understand that of course, it's not going to be easy. Nothing really is, in the end." 

"From what I can gather, L'Manberg was your home. Both you and Tommy are upset. But what you gotta understand is that it's only the two of you."

Wilbur watched as the faintest of grins crossed Techno's face. "And now, I guess it's the three of us."

* * *

About half an hour had passed since Techno and Wilbur had gotten into the cave, the two of them eating some mushrooms that Techno claimed he had found while heading over. Though Wilbur would've much preferred the mushrooms being in soup form, that could be substituted by grilling them over the campfire for a bit. With Wilbur never having eaten a mushroom that wasn't in a stew before, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that whole mushrooms weren't that bad. Sure, they kinda tasted like a musty cellar, but if coupled with something like butter, they would taste perfect.

It was probably the height of cuisine for a couple of exiled leaders. 

Upon spending some time with Techno, Wilbur found that the man had a nice smile, when he chose to show it of course. From the few times he had met up with Techno after SMPEarth ended, he'd never seen a smile that quite reached the man's eyes. 

But here, laughing with Wilbur, Wilbur was treated with the rare sight of a real smile from Techno. A treasure, to be sure.

"Y'know, Wilbur, how did you come up with the idea of an election, anyways?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY I DID NOT EXPECT TO TAKE THIS LONG TO WRITE A CHAPTER
> 
> when I first started writing this fic, I had the inspo (and free time) to write around 4k words in one sitting, and i'd expected that that would be consistent throughout writing this fic. unfortunately, school happened, then meeting up with friends, then dealing with irl stuff... and here we are
> 
> rest assured, I will not be taking this long to write any future chapters of this fic! ive written out a whole timeline of this thing and ill be damned if i let it go to waste. chapters will now be updated on thursdays and fridays from now on
> 
> also, thank you all so much for being so kind in the comments last chapter! any kudos or comments would be extremely appreciated! ill also try to put in more appearances from other ccs in this fic other than just tommy wilbur and techno haha
> 
> here are some fics that i HIGHLY recommend you read, they don't have nearly enough love as they deserve:
> 
> https://netzen.pro/works/26943931?__cpo=aHR0cHM6Ly9hcmNoaXZlb2ZvdXJvd24ub3Jn  
> https://netzen.pro/works/26753068?__cpo=aHR0cHM6Ly9hcmNoaXZlb2ZvdXJvd24ub3Jn  
> https://netzen.pro/works/26626516?__cpo=aHR0cHM6Ly9hcmNoaXZlb2ZvdXJvd24ub3Jn

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOO FINALLY ITS DONE
> 
> please leave suggestions in the comics if you can!! they’d be really appreciated


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